Daily Archives: February 16, 2014

An Experiment

It was dumb, I'll admit.  But I had to try.  I was looking for courage and compassion.

Down through the years since my divorce (1990), I have joined several dating sites...and let them lapse.  Strange thing is these sites will continue to send me emails and flirts from men to entice me to join back up.  Considering my situation, these men are usually not suitable for me.  Well, yesterday, in a moment of boredom, loneliness, and secret optimism, I joined back up to one of these sites.  I not only did a search and indicated interest in half a dozen men, I updated my profile.  Here's the trick...I added that I was bipolar.

I don't know what I was thinking.  Maybe I was hoping for the benefit of the doubt.  I mean, the people I know don't shun me.  I'm not dangerous.  And I apologize when I have too many problems to complain about.  I don't drool...not since we lowered my lithium.  And I have sincere compassion for those who do.  I just wanted to be accepted as I am and not have to worry about when to tell.  Lay it out up front.  Well, I got what I was asking for...

One of the men I expressed interest in not only blocked me, he sent a message thanking me for my email but he "politely declined from further communication."  It was the first time I have ever received that kind of response.

Now, maybe I am jumping to conclusions.  Maybe he doesn't like blondes or didn't like what I said about NASCAR.  But my reaction was swift...I shut the browser window, shut the laptop, and put it away.  I felt blank and cold.  It was a while before I felt the sadness and isolation.  Perhaps I'll eventually feel anger.  Not now, though.  I just feel numb.

I have run across other bipolar blogs that deal with relationships...perhaps I need to read them.  Maybe there's a "Dating for the Mentally Ill" web site.  (Is that a little anger showing up?)  It takes love to live with a person with bipolar disorder...love, patience, acceptance, kindness, perseverance, faith, hope...  You can't expect that from a stranger.  They don't show up with love and commitment.  Faith takes time.

So what am I wanting to say here?  For those of us not in a 'significant other' relationship, perhaps we are enough.  We have to dig deeper or wider for compassion and hope.  I have friends who love me...children...pets.  That can be enough.  I will watch the sunrise, write, paint, take my meds, set goals, try to make my own little world a better place.

Sun's up...

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

Today was interesting.  I’m not what you’d call a Christian, although sometimes I believe in God.  My parents are hard-core Catholics and they’ve had all their Catholic friends praying for me through this huge depression and round of ECT.  Some of their friends offered to have us over for a prayer session and to lay hands on me.  My feeling was, what the fuck!  It can’t hurt and maybe it will help!  So today we drove up to Fort Collins and participated in the little prayer/healing ceremony.  I was so overwhelmed by all of the energy there and I was REALLY uncomfortable being the center of attention, but somehow I managed not to jump out of my skin and I just tried to accept and absorb all of the healing energy in the room.  Aside from my high anxiety, it was a really special, kind and loving experience.  I don’t feel any different but I’m open to any healing vibes that are out there.

Tonight I went with my friend Crispy Fries to see the movie Nebraska.  It was pretty good.  Bruce Dern was outstanding, and Will Forte was a pleasure to look at.  What a babe!

My depression must be improving if I have any hint of sexual attraction.  Of course you know that I had a whopper of an attraction to Dr. Sweetie, and now with Will Forte, I just about flung myself at the movie screen.  Maybe someday I’ll focus my attraction on someone who feels the same way about me.  That would be nice to get back into the dating game.  Being an island gets old :).

Well my early morning wake-up is catching up with me, I think I will hop into my bed sweet bed.  Doesn’t it feel GREAT to get into bed at the end of the day?  I love it :) :) :).  Nighty-night!!

Filed under: Bipolar, Bipolar Depressed, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar ECT, Bipolar Isolation, Psychology Shmyshmology Tagged: Bipolar, Hope, Mental Illness, Psychology, Reader



Filed under: Self Discovery Tagged: bipolar disorder, love, mental illness, strength

I Dreamed A Dream

As silly as it may sound for a woman with a science background, I’ve always subscribed to the idea that dreams are more than just the flotsam and jetsam that floats around in the subconscious mind. I’ve even had some memorable ones that I believe were premonitions of events that later occurred…..like the time I dreamed that one of my kittens got stuck in the freezer.

At the time, Will and I had a refrigerator whose freezer was on the bottom, and the door kept popping open so we used duct tape to keep it closed. This method was unreliable, as the resulting ice buildup would force the door open no matter how strong the tape; but since the landlord wouldn’t fix it, we had no other options. Sure enough, when I woke from the dream and heard meowing, I went to the kitchen to investigate and found the kitty standing in the freezer with his poor little paws glued to the ice.

So I wasn’t happy when I awoke from this afternoon’s feature, in which I was in some mental-health facility because I was full-on manic and couldn’t control myself. In the dream I kept racing back and forth between the two bathrooms in the place, unable to decide where I wanted to shower, so I put some of my shampoo and foo-foo stuff in the pink bathroom and the rest in the green one. Then I finally decided on the pink, and as I stepped into the shower some old guy (I’m assuming a male patient) peeked around the curtain and began to make suggestive remarks.

As I undoubtedly would if I’d actually been in such a situation, I cursed the fellow roundly and threatened him with the loss of a certain set of appendages. Whereupon he shut the curtain and said “Oh well, you’re not that good-looking anyways” before walking offstage. That pissed me off even more, so I called him a few more choice names and then ran for the other shower, where I’m assuming I finished up my ablutions because I woke up at that point.

Well, OK, I don’t REALLY know what (if anything) the dream might portend, but I can definitely find some symbolism in it. I think the act of running back and forth between shower rooms represents the dichotomy between the two mood states I’ve been experiencing of late, with my overreaction to the old guy’s catcalls reflecting my agitation and general hostility. And it doesn’t take a genius to figure out the meaning in being confined to an institution when I’m feeling so claustrophobic and trapped in my waking life.

Even so, I’m doing a bit better today. The session with Dr. A had its usual soothing effects and I got a good night’s sleep, although I had a few anxious tears before I slipped into slumber. As much as I hate to acknowledge it (Dr. A said “the trouble is that medically, you know too much”) I am scared shitless about Will’s cancer having spread to his bones. Every time he grunts or groans I’m afraid he’s fracturing something. But he continues to be active, cooks breakfast and dinner, walks the dog, works on his models, and generally enjoys his life.

I can’t spoil that for him.

So I try to put on a brave face, and then I have these vivid dreams in which I find myself in distressing circumstances and work so hard to fight my way out that when I wake up, I’m almost as tired as if I’ve actually done it. And then I have the nerve to be shocked when my illness comes roaring out of hibernation.

Hmmm. Maybe that was the purpose of this dream: to teach me that while I can control some of life’s minor details, I am NOT in charge…..and there isn’t a damned thing I can do about it.

Guess I’ll have to chew that one over for a while. And unlike Dr. A’s crocodile meat, it sure as hell doesn’t taste like chicken.

A Setback is Not a Reason to Give Up

I am ten pounds closer in my journey back to 130.  I must say I have been doing excellent in eating well and exercising daily.  Well, until yesterday.  We finally got home from the hotel and it was FREEZING in the house!  So we turned on some heat and decided to grab a bite to eat in town while it warmed up.  There weren’t many choices when it came to choosing a place that wasn’t jam packed with early Valentiners, but we settled on Pizza Hut.  We got the buffet, and that is always a mistake when trying to lose weight.  I feel the need to at least get my money’s worth.  I ended up eating three slices of pizza, a breadstick and a salad.  Not too bad, but not exceptional either.  But I figured, hey, I will add some extra time to my workout, no biggie.  But then, I don’t know, I ended up binging on some of my fiance’s chips that night. And eating a donut.  I felt terrible afterwards, both with shame and my tummy not being used to the excess junk in my system.  I made a mental note of how awful it makes me feel to eat this way and vowed to get back on track today.  Only, today we decided to go on our annual trip to Red Lobster.  It’s our little treat each year around tax return time, and while at most restaurants I could be pretty good at sticking to a healthier version of something to eat, I just can’t at Red Lobster.  It’s my favorite, from the Cheddar Bay Biscuits to the Red Wine Vinaigrette to the Rock Island Stuffed Tilapia and more Cheddar Bay Biscuits.  It’s a dieter’s nightmare, but such, such heaven to my taste buds.  So I ate what I wanted to.  I didn’t make myself sick, but I didn’t go out of my way to make healthy choices either. I just finished up the leftovers for supper tonight.  So that is done.  And I am done with the bad food choices.  I’ve had my fill, and I feel more confident about tomorrow’s menu.  

Normally, when I am trying to lose weight, just one day of bad choices causes me to give up and go back to my old ways.  I then end up gaining more weight than I lost because it’s like I am trying to make up for lost time, shoveling in all that greasy, sweet, salty goodness and washing it down with nonstop sodas for good measure.  And it makes me really hate myself.  That annoying saying “nothing tastes as good as healthy feels”, while true, just isn’t enough to keep me from binging on junk.  And when I start binging I make it even worse by cutting out the exercise because, mainly, I feel so heavy and lethargic from the crap I’m putting into my body I can’t move.  I know this cycle all too well, and I am saying enough is enough.  

So, as fun as Red Lobster was today, I don’t want any more of it.  Not until next year’s annual trip.  And I know I can make my goal by my 35th birthday if I really stick to good eating and fitness habits. I’ve had my first setback this time around.  I am wise enough to know it doesn’t have to be the end of the road, and it’s not going to be.